


Now Was Her Labor But Begun

by Zdenka



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Extras, Gen, Third Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1327525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/pseuds/Zdenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arwen prepares to make the King’s standard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now Was Her Labor But Begun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaDonnaErrante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDonnaErrante/gifts).



> The title comes from a line in the _Lay of Leithian_.

When the idea comes to her, Arwen turns it over long in her own mind. At last she seeks her grandmother’s counsel.

“Yes,” Galadriel says, her eyes shining with the light of the West which Arwen has never seen (and never will see, now that she has given her heart to a mortal man; but she would not renounce him for the bliss of Valinor). “It will not be as mighty as the work of Lúthien, but much may yet be done with words of protection, with weaving and jewel-craft. I have some things here which may serve.” She seeks in a carven chest and returns with a handful of bright gems which she lets spill upon the table. They glimmer like blossoms of white niphredil among the grass. “These were made by the smiths of Eregion, ere Sauron came among them with his lies. And these,” she says thoughtfully, weighing a golden bracelet in her hand, “were wrought long ago in Tirion for my mother while the Trees yet shone. Let them aid you now in your purpose.” She takes up a small knife and skillfully pries the gems loose from their setting, placing each of them with the others.

There are other jewels as well, sent to her father by Thranduil of Mirkwood. When Glóin came to the Council of Elrond, he brought tokens of friendship from the King Under the Mountain. Halbarad once gave her a gem recovered from a troll-hoard, stolen from some king or lady of the North-kingdom long ago. She values the friendship more than the jewels; but now the jewels have found their proper use.

Thread of mithril she must have, and thread of gold. She barters long in trade with Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, and begs aid from the smiths of Imladris to draw it out as fine as she would have it.

She then sets up a great loom in her chambers and strings it with black thread. Black too is the thread on her shuttle; and as she weaves, she sings. She sings ancient melodies of Valinor that were carried across the Ice in the Elder Days, and merry tunes newly sprung up like blades of grass among the hobbits of the Shire. She sings slow, mournful songs that came ashore with the Exiles of Númenor, along with the deep, tolling notes of Dwarves from Erebor and the songs which she has heard the trees whisper in Lothlórien; she sings the lullaby that Arathorn’s widow sang to soothe her child, and a song of desert stars her beloved taught her when he came back from Harad. She sings to Elbereth the Star-kindler and to the grey-clad Lady of Tears. She sings her hope and her fear, her love and her faith, love of the light and defiance of the Shadow. And at last her weaving is complete. 

She returns to the gems which she has gathered and sets them before her. Closing her eyes, she sees them flash in the sunlight upon the King’s banner. Then she takes up needle and thread and she begins.

  


**Author's Note:**

> “There flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that no lord had borne for years beyond count. And the stars flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought of gems by Arwen daughter of Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was wrought of mithril and gold.”  
> - _The Return of the King_ , “The Battle of the Pelennor Fields”
> 
> Image from the painting _Stitching the Standard_ (1911) by Edmund Blair Leighton.


End file.
